Chapter Eight #2
She studied him for a moment, his broad shoulders, the way his boots scuffed the floor, then nodded.
Without another word, she walked out, climbed into her SUV, and drove off toward the B and B, the barn’s warmth receding in her rearview mirror.
A luxurious soak in the jacuzzi awaited her, its promise of hot bubbles and lavender-scented steam calling her name where she could have a good cry.
Once she arrived at the cabin, she knew she had to call Doris before anything else. The pine-scented air inside couldn’t mask the knot of dread in her stomach. She hated being a snitch, but what Sean did, the slur that had fallen from his lips, the bruising grip of his fingers, was unacceptable.
After plopping onto the sofa, she called Doris and recounted the incident, her voice catching on the ugliest details.
“He did what?” Doris’s voice crackled through the phone like a lightning strike.
“I didn’t want to tell you...” Ryan traced a finger along a pattern in the sofa.
“It’s a damn good thing you did because if you hadn’t and I found out later, you would both be out of a job.” Doris’s breath came in sharp bursts. “Damn him. I’ve had more than enough of his attitude. He’s gone.”
“But, what about the article? I took all those photos.” Ryan glanced at her camera bag, slumped by the door like another exhausted traveler.
“I’ll call Mr. Harrison and interview him myself. I’m sure I still remember how.” The sound of papers shuffling came through the line. “Damn it! How dare Sean do that?”
“It shocked me to hear him call me that slur. Of course, Seth stopped him real fast.” Ryan’s fingers unconsciously touched her upper arm where Sean’s grip had left five distinct ovals of purple red.
“It’s not just what he said, he put his hands on you.” Doris’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “That is not going to just be swept under the rug. I’m so sorry, Ryan. I will take care of this.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.
“I’ll call Mr. Harrison tomorrow. I need to apologize to him about that little piece of shit. You just relax today. If you need me, call. Talk soon, honey.”
Doris hung up with a decisive click. Ryan pushed herself to her feet, legs trembling slightly, and headed for the bathroom where a good hot soak in the claw-foot tub and a long, throat-burning cry awaited.
****
Seth shook his hand, trying to ease the pain, as he watched her SUV kick up a cloud of dust as it disappeared down the drive, the late sun glinting off it. The creak of the barn door drew his attention as Cull stepped inside.
“Damn, what an ass,” Cull said, his voice low and gravelly.
“Yes, he is that.” Seth’s jaw tightened.
“Is Ryan alright?”
“She’s a little shook up, but I think she’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, she’s tough.” Cull shook his head, adjusting his worn leather gloves.
“I need to head in.”
“What about your hand?” Cull nodded toward it.
“Sore. I need to soak it. I’ll see you later,” Seth said, then turned back. “Thanks, Cull.”
“Sure. I just happened to be walking by since we just got back.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” Cull touched the brim of his sweat-stained hat, then walked out, boots scuffing against the floor.
Seth stepped out into the sunshine to see Micky and Red standing beside the barn. He stopped beside them.
“Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, boss. He deserved it,” Micky said.
Seth nodded at them, then shook his head as he crossed the yard, the memory of Hayes’ sneering face still burning in his mind.
He hoped Ryan would report Hayes to their boss.
The way Hayes had grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her skin, had made Seth see red.
But it was when Hayes had called her that despicable word and it made something snap inside Seth like a dry branch.
He examined his knuckles, already purple with bruises, skin split over two of them. Blood had dried in thin crusted lines. He’d soak his hand in ice. It wasn’t the first time he’d busted his knuckles.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he flexed his fingers, wincing at the sharp pain that shot up his wrist. This injury would set him back on training. He’d take ibuprofen to keep the swelling down, but the truth was as clear as the throbbing in his hand, he wouldn’t be working with any horses for a while.
Later, Seth slumped in the recliner with his throbbing hand submerged in a plastic mixing bowl of ice.
The cubes had melted into jagged translucent islands floating in frigid water that had turned his fingers a bloodless white, while Hayes’ words echoed through his head.
Was Ryan leading him on? Did she just want to be with him because he was different from the type of man she wanted?
He knew he wasn’t her type, but he knew there was tension between them.
Sexual tension and that can’t be faked. It was too hot between them, but he also knew she’d be leaving soon and where would that leave him?
“Alone,” he muttered, knowing that as well as he knew his own name.
After twenty minutes, he couldn’t feel anything below his wrist, not the scrapes across his knuckles nor the swelling that had ballooned around his middle finger.
He lifted the numb appendage from its arctic bath, examining the puffy flesh as droplets pattered back into the bowl.
He picked up the small hand towel and gently patted his hand dry, then with a grimace, he hauled himself up and shuffled to the kitchen, where he dumped the slush into the sink with a crystalline clatter.
The ice skittered against the white sink as he trudged down the hallway toward the small office, dreading the prospect of pressing his tender fingers against the unyielding plastic keys of his computer.
****
The next day when Ryan and Cull drove to the field in the UTV, she inhaled the crisp Montana morning air, tinged with the scent of dewy grass.
The vast blue sky stretched endlessly above them, unmarred by a single cloud.
She was just along for the ride. Cull was heading to fix a section of fence that was down.
It had gotten to the point where she didn’t have much more to photograph, so she took photos of everything she could for herself, though she knew, in her heart, she would never forget this place or Seth.
“It always smells so good here,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as the breeze tousled it.
“It’s the fresh air and the rain from last night.” Cull nodded, his gloved hands steady on the steering wheel as they bounced along the rutted dirt path. “Nothing like it anywhere else.”
“I love California, but we do have a lot of smog.” Ryan wrinkled her nose at the memory of the hazy Los Angeles skyline.
“I’ve never been there. I’m sure it’s nice though.” Cull’s voice carried no judgment, just the matter-of-fact tone of someone who’d found his place in the world.
“Oh, it is, but once you see places like this—” she gestured to the rolling fields of golden wheat swaying in the gentle breeze “—it makes you want to never leave.”
Cull glanced at her, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “So, what’s stopping you from staying?”
Ryan laughed. “I have a job in California.”
“I see.” Cull’s response was simple, but his knowing look spoke volumes.
“I will miss Montana though,” she said with a sigh, her gaze drifting to the distant mountains on the horizon.
“Montana or the man?” Cull asked, hitting a pothole that made them both bounce in their seats.
She bit her lip and shook her head, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her flannel shirt. “It would do no good to miss the man.”
“Bullshit. He’ll miss you too.” Cull’s blunt words cut through the morning air like a scythe through hay.
“Cull, we’re on different ends of the spectrum. His life is here and mine is in California. I know, without a doubt, that he would never leave Montana.” Her voice caught slightly on the last word.
“No, he won’t. He’s Montana born and bred.
This will always be his home.” Cull gestured to the sprawling landscape around them.
“He runs a very successful cutting horse business. Hell, he was one of the best when he rode in competitions. The feed is just a bonus he took on to help Ash with the planting.”
“Seth told me he was able to buy this spread because of competing, but how did the feed growing come about?” Ryan asked, grateful for the change in subject as she blinked away the moisture gathering in her eyes.
“Ash Beckett started out small years ago. Using his own land, when supply and demand started, he knew he’d have to lease more land. That man has saved several farmers and ranchers from losing their properties.”
“Seth wasn’t close to that, was he?” Ryan’s concern was evident in her furrowed brow.
“No. Ash asked him because of the type of soil Seth has. It grows corn and oats quickly.” Cull navigated around a large rock in the path.
“Seth did it because Ash asked him to. They’ve been friends for years.
” Cull shrugged, his worn denim jacket shifting across his broad shoulders. “He couldn’t turn him down.”
“It’s nice that Ash helps people.” Ryan smiled softly, watching a hawk circle lazily overhead.
“Yeah, more than a few were on the verge of losing land, until they either went to Ash or he went to them.” Cull pulled the UTV to a stop at the edge of the corn field where the morning sun gilded everything in sight.
“It’s a little muddy, but you don’t need to get out.
I just want to check the corn before I work on the fence.
It’s over that rise,” he said, pointing to the north.
“I don’t care about the mud. I’d like to take some pictures.”
Cull nodded, stepped from the UTV, walked toward the field, then through the rows.
Ryan followed, carrying her camera. She was surprised to see the corn had seemed to grow overnight. It was almost as tall as her now.
“It’s grown so much,” she said as she snapped photos.